


Leaks

by The_Silent_Writer



Category: The Fifth Estate (2013), The World's End (2013)
Genre: After the lights went out, Budding Relationship, First Meeting, Freebatch - Freeform, Kind of angsty, M/M, Post-Apocalypse, WikiLeaks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-26
Updated: 2015-05-31
Packaged: 2018-01-20 20:02:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1523798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Silent_Writer/pseuds/The_Silent_Writer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oliver shows up on Julian's doorstep one night. They become neighbors and learn more about each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Scraps and Flames

_How long had the world been without technology?_ He wondered. It had been months, no, years now. For a long while, he had kept a tally as each day dragged on. As day turned into night turned into more endless days, however, he had lost the drive to remember what day was which. There was some poor sod out there still keeping track of the day, the weather, giving their life to become a living almanac, he was sure of that.

It was a bit sad, Julian had to admit, that he was still so obsessive towards something that was never coming back. Still, technology was what had made him feel alive, what had made him tick. And WikiLeaks… That master piece had been his baby. He had fathered it for years, he had spent his entire life to get to that quintessential point. And for what?

For some world-wide electrical crash to destroy everything he had ever cared about, that’s what…

He sighed, looking around the dank, old flat he had found himself someplace near… Cardiff, that was it. He had been in Berlin when the lights went out. After the initial shock and going through the stages of grief for his loss of WikiLeaks, he had hoofed it down to Dresden. A few weeks there left him bored to tears, so he decided to make his way North-East. Brussels had been nice for a few days but he had the strongest urge to return to Wales, where he had spent a good part of his broken childhood. So Cardiff it was and in Cardiff he had staid the longest. He had been through two winters in his shoddy little flat. Though he did admit, the insulation was much better than any of the other places he had roomed in. The walls were wooden, with soft, pink and yellow insulation lining its interior. (Again, he had to congratulate himself for finding such a prime spot before anyone else had.) Not much for decoration on the walls, save one newspaper clipping he had pinned up. An article from Time’s Magazine: _WikiLeaks_ , the heading said, _… could become as important a journalist tool as the Freedom of Information Act_.

A smirk crept onto his face every time he looked at that clipping. It reminded him of the justice he had given to the oppressed, of a better time. A time that he could never return to. He really should try to let the past go, but that was very hard for Julian. To be at the highlight of his life only to have it snuffed out like an ember, it was almost humiliating. Even if it had been years ago now. Deep wounds like that would take a long time to heal.

Julian stretched out on his small cot placed on the floor. He called it a “cot”, but it was really just a mountainous fort of blankets, coats, and scraps of cloth splayed on the wooden floor. It wasn’t much, but at least it was comfortable.

The candle on the small night stand flickered.  _Time for bed it seems_ , he thought. He leaned forward, taking in a breath to blow out the flame. Just as he was about to extinguish the light, a knock came from his front door. A large part of Julian wanted to blow out the candle, get some sleep, and ignore whoever or whatever was outside his flat. But of course, his curiosity got the better of him. He wobbled as he stood. He had found a fraction of a bottle of whiskey the other month and had decided to save it for a special occasion. As a matter of fact, that special occasion happened to be him feeling like he was close to losing himself. It had been one of those nights, what else was he supposed to do?

Again, he sighed as he made his way to the door. A hand combed through his hair. Another sigh. One more haircut and the white would be completely gone, leaving dark-caramel locks in its wake. Something about that fact sent mixed emotions through his body. He was exhilarated to finally rid himself of the rituals of that cult, but then a part of him felt like he would be giving up the last part that made him the prestigious Julian Assange he had worked so hard to become.

He went through two more sighs before he made it to the door. A part of him was hoping some assassin had decided he wanted his flat. At least he’d have some entertainment before one or both of them met their demise. That was something to look forward to.

The loud creaking of the door betrayed the nonchalant way Julian had opened the door. “Can I help you?” he asked in his thick Australian accent. He hummed a moment. It felt nice to use his voice after weeks of silence.

“Well, not help, per se. I wanted to introduce myself!” The little man in front of Julian seemed unusually happy for someone in a post-apocalyptic wasteland. He had neat, short blonde hair. The suit he was wearing was dark-blue with thin, baby-blue pin stripes. Though he refused to admit it, Julian thought the business smile this little man dished out was stunning. He looked very out of place, almost too perfect to be in the slums Cardiff had become. “My name’s Oliver Chamberlain and I’ll be your next door neighbor!”


	2. Candles and Card Stock

_“My name’s Oliver Chamberlain and I’ll be your next door neighbor!”_

Julian slammed the door closed.

Not tonight. Julian would  _not_ deal with some happy-go-lucky stranger tonight. He was far too tired and coming down from his alcohol induced high.

The silence he got in return for slamming the door made him wonder if maybe he had just imagined the short blonde greeting him. If that was true, surely his mind could come up with a slightly more… robust and feminine model rather than a petite business man that was far too chirpy for his own good.

“O-Oh! I must have come by at an inconvenient time. My apologies!” A voice called from the other side of the door. The faint sound of fabric shuffling led to a small card being slid under the door frame. “I’ll come by later! Great to meet you!” And with that cheery outro, footsteps grew distant.

Well, at least Julian’s imagination hadn’t created this incredibly odd experience for him.

* * *

 

That was literally the most awkward experience of Oliver’s life. Even the memories that were selected for him hadn’t touched this level of uncomfortable.

And how rude was that man?! Very, if Oliver had anything to say about it! Yes, maybe it is God-only-knows-what-time-it-is ‘o clock, but that didn’t exactly warrant a door almost breaking his nose! A light was on and it was worth a shot; better to get to know those around you. A survival tactic, really.

Ever since the lights went out, Blanks have had a bad reputation. They were getting blamed for something they didn’t do. It was those bloody drunks he once called friends who went and pulled the plug. Oliver and his brothers and sisters were only trying to help the world progress. What happened as a result wasn’t planned, but what’s done is done. Besides, starting a fight with every Dick and Harry wasn’t the best way to make friends. Blanks needed company too, lest they lost their minds just as fast as a human.

As he walked into the flat next door he set to forgetting about the horrid first meeting with his new neighbor. Oliver was clever. He knew that his not-so-happy neighbor would be a nice asset to have. The man, whom he had decided to call ‘Pongo’ on account of that chess board-coloured hair (until he found out his real name, of course), could definitely be useful. He was taller than Oliver, for starters. That alone made Oliver think he’d be nice to have when going out on scavenging trips. Having someone taller meant you had someone to hide behind. (Cripes, he was starting to feel like Peter; hiding from the world.) Underneath all of Pongo’s tattered and frumpy winter clothes, there was definitely taught, lean muscle, no doubt gained from his time fending for himself. Not that Oliver had been ogling in the short glimpse he got before having the door thrown in his face. But… If he had to admit, and who else can you admit to if not yourself, Pongo had been easy on the eyes. Although having to look past such a grumpy attitude would get some taking used to. Where was he going with this? Whether or not his neighbor was fit had nothing to do with anything!

_Focus, Chamberlain!_

This small room was a dinky hole in the wall, but would be home sweet home nonetheless. For a past real estate agent to think that a flat like this was prime pickings (amazing location, fantastic aspects, the works!) showed how bad things had gotten. It wasn’t all that bad, really, just a huge change from what used to be the norm. There was working plumbing… Somehow. That was something! And he had already spruced the place up a week before; finding and hoarding the nicest things he could find. Lush carpets, throws, and pillows made a comfortable nest in the corner closest to the hearth. (One of the perks of an end unit in this particular flat complex.) To be honest, this was the nicest place Oliver had stayed in so far.

Though he was happy to have found such a nice spot, he still worried for his future. He had the niggling thought that this was some sort of fluke, being able to live here in Cardiff. It felt too nice, too safe. Other than his grumpy neighbor, Pongo, he hadn’t seen anyone or any Blank living around the area.

_Good for me, I suppose._ He sighed. Oliver was a sociable creature, however. He needed the company to talk to lest he went stir crazy. And if Pongo was the only living thing around, life was going to be pretty dull. Unless… Unless he found a way to pull the stick out of the man’s arse. Hell, Oliver was a real estate agent pre-apocalypse, well, he had the memories of a real estate agent. If he could sell a house going for 1.2 million pounds, he could befriend the rude bloke next door.

And with that mission in mind, Oliver laid on his pallet of scrapped fabric and began the makings of a plan.

Even if he couldn’t actually find a way to become friends with the man, Oliver was going to have so much fun messing with him.

* * *

 

Julian took a moment to gather his thoughts before he picked up the business card that had pushed its way under the door. A part of him felt bad for slamming the door in the bloke’s face, but the majority of his conscious said there was no use worrying. It was done, no conflict arose from the moment, smiles and champagne all around.

Now, this business card.  _Oliver Chamberlain_ , it said,  _Co-Manager of Meriadoc - Boutique Estate Agency. North London._ Was that the man’s name? Julian couldn’t remember for the life of him now. The introduction had ended as quickly as it started, so he really only had this business card to go by. The mobile number printed on the card had been crossed out. Just above that, a little arrow led Julian to the back of the card. A short message was scrawled there:  _Too bad phones don’t work anymore. :(_

Julian let out a breathy chuckle at that. This Oliver fellow had a good sense of humor, he’d give him that.

The candle flickering again snapped the man out of his inspection of the small piece of card stock. He really should be heading to bed.

He set the card aside for the night before blowing out the torch. Now in the dark with nothing but his thoughts, they wandered to the quaint little man next door.

_Maybe having a neighbor won’t be so bad…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! I'm so sorry it took so long to update anything! Supernatural binge-watching + jet lag + not that much sleep = a very lazy writer... 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter! I have some plans for this story, but still, you never know where these boys will take you! I'm hoping to write more soon and update this or another story in the works.
> 
> Feel free to leave a comment/tell me I'm bad for updating so late XD 
> 
> Have a great evening, morning and afternoon! -bows-


	3. Peaches and Tigers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morning comes and the boys share a meal together.

_Maybe having a neighbor won’t be so bad…_

 

A loud rapping on the door jolted Julian out of his slumber. He sat up so quick that he nearly got whiplash. Frantic hazel eyes darted around, trying to make sense of black shadows littering the walls of his room. The sun, still young, soaked everything in a deep shade of blue. If he wasn’t half scared into alertness and miffed at the man he just  _knew_ was at his door, he might have thought the flat looked distinguished.

Julian was groggy with want of sleep.

Julian was now utterly pissed.

Julian wanted to defile his new neighbor in the worst of ways.

“What do you  _want_ , Oliver?!” he screamed, yanked the door open so hard that his shoulder smarted. Ah, and there was Oliver looking more chipper than he had any right to be so early in the morning.

“I just wanted to wish you a good morning! I figured since the sun was up you might as well be.” The ex-real estate agent smiled innocently, but really, who wouldn’t take pride in knowing that they just woken up a person they’re not exactly fond of? Oliver didn’t need to sleep, so he had just been counting the hours until dawn. It was all worth it to see a gruff, disheveled Pongo with long hair sticking up every which-way and eyes open just enough to see a sliver of miffed hazel eyes. This  _was_ a nice sight to see so early in the day.

Julian didn’t know what to say. His brain was still tethered by the tendrils of sleep and there was just so much more floating around in a head space that was meant for mathematics and computer codes than he knew what to do with. “Do… Do you not sleep?” he asked groggily as he leaned heabily on the door frame. He was determined to go back to sleep, no matter what position he was in.

The question gave Oliver pause for though. It wouldn’t do to tell this man the truth about his… lineage just yet. Not when he knew next to nothing about Pongo or how much Pongo knew about the lights going out. “O-Oh, well you know,” he stuttered at first, “you know how it is, insomnia and all that.” He felt a chill run down his spine while the man held him in a scrutinized gaze.

“Yes… We’ve all been there.”

“Right?!” Oliver cheered, a little too enthusiastically. “Now, how about breakfast? On me?” Blanks didn’t need to eat, but Oliver always kept non-perishables with him in case he needed to barter his way out of a sticky situation. Pongo pinned him where he stood with another glare, which went straight to some private bits of his anatomy, before giving him a nod.

Chamberlain led the way to his flat, all confident strides and chipper attitude as far as Julian could see. “ _Is all you ever wear the suit?_ ” He saw Oliver’s shoulders tighten at the question and he cursed himself quietly. He had thought that was a question he had posed in his mind.

“I have other things… But this is what I was wearing when this all started. It reminds me of before the lights went out.” Even if they weren’t his memories.

“I’m sorry, mate. If that was too—”

“It’s fine. I could ask why you look like a Dalmatian.”

One of Julian’s hands went up to touch his hair. He understood where Olliver was coming from, but Dalmatians are  _spotted_. “I’d say I’m more like a white tiger.”

The little man turned around, and with no attempt to hide how his crystal blue eyes roved over Julian’s body, he nodded. “I agree. They’re a much sexier species,” he concurred as he opened his front door. He waited for Pongo to step in before talking again. “Though if previous introductions are anything to go by, perhaps the correct animal would be a skunk.”

Julian turned to look at Oliver with wide eyes.  _Ouch_. But really, he should have seen that coming. "Yeah. Sorry about that. You caught me at a bad time, I was in the middle of reminiscing and not particularly about the best of times. Then you show up in the dead of night looking as happy as can be and I was just thrown through a loop.” He saw the unimpressed eyebrow raise and look in Oliver’s eyes. “Yeah… Sorry. Can we try it again?”

“What, introductions?”

“Yes.”

Oliver held out his hand in an amiable greeting. “My name’s Oliver Chamberlain and I’m your next door neighbor.” He smiled.

“Julian Assange.” He noticed how much brighter Oliver’s smiled seemed to get when he met him the rest of the way for a strong handshake.

“Julian? Well that’s certainly better than what I was calling you.”

“And what was that?”

“’Pongo’.”

Well it could have been worse. And before he could make some sort of witty retort, his impatient stomach decided to do the talking for him. “Sorry.”

“No need, I’ll get something to eat.” Oliver waved for Julian to take a seat wherever while he scrounged around in the pack that he kept his morsels in. “Allergies?”

“None.” Julian answered offhandedly, his attention more engaged with his new surroundings. “You’ve been here longer than a few days.”

“Hmm?” Oh, yes. I got to Cardiff about a week and a half ago.” He brought Julian a can of peached and metal spoon. It should be relatively clean. It wasn’t like he had used it or anything. Though he had found it lying on the ground…

“Thanks, mate.” The checkered-haired man took the provisions gratefully, wiping off the spoon with a clean-ish part of his over shirt. He was about to dig in when he noticed Oliver just watching his with a soft smile. “…Are you not having any?”

This seemed like another good time to hide little facts about his origin. “No, I had something earlier.”

 ~~Pongo~~ Julian nodded before chowing down and before he knew it, the can had been drained of its delectables. With a satisfied sigh, he leaned back in the wooden chair he had dubbed his perch for the moment. It had been the most he’d eaten in a few week, and his stomach was very grateful for the sugary meal. “Thank you, Oliver, if you need something—”

“Nah, it’s no skin off my back.”

Julian looked at Oliver with suspicion. “You don’t want anything from me?”

“Not particularly.”  _Not at the moment._

“Well… I suppose if you ever need something, feel free to ask.”

Oliver nodded his thanks and they settled into a somewhat comfortable silence. For a good hour, at least, they just listened to the sounds of the outside world and felt the flat warm up as the sun rose higher in the sky. Instead of the light blue of dawn mixing with the dark of night, everything was now painted with a sun kissed orange, the skyline coalescing with pink and purple highlights.

“…How have you been living until now?” Oliver tentatively asked, his gaze never leaving the portrait outside his window.

“I don’t think I have, to be honest…”


	4. Lights and Missions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Conversation accidentally ends with the boys in not the greatest of moods.

_"…How have you been living until now?"_

_“I don’t think I have, to be honest…”_

 

Chamberlain wasn’t quite sure what the meaning behind that statement was, but it wouldn’t be too hard to guess. It had been 2 years, 4 months, and 24 days since the lights went out. People had lives before this. That was for sure. His eyes scanned over Julian and could see his fingers itching to do something, to  _create_ something. Oliver guessed he had taken the outage pretty hard. “What did you do? Before the lights went out, I mean.”

“I was trying to protect the world…”

A tiny red flag went up in Oliver’s mind. Perhaps this unnaturally handsome man was, in fact, a loon that escaped from some sort of high-priority prison… or asylum.

Julian took notice in Oliver’s unresponsiveness. “I’m not off my rocker! I was. WikiLeaks is…  _was_ going to shine the light on so many confidential and illegal situations that high-profiled crime would have been a thing of the past.”

“Oh… Oh! I remember hearing about that on the news a few times. Mate, you fucked up on a colossal scale.” Some of his given memories were of him sitting in front of the telly, drinking cheap tea and watching BBC. How could he have forgotten seeing the shocks of snow-white hair flash every now and then on the news?

A glare Julian shot his way spoke volumes, and yet it died out just as quickly as it had appeared. “Yes, I’ve had a lot of time to think about my mistakes.”

“And how’s that ben working out for you?”

“Come again?”

“Well, there’s no real reason to think about the past now, is there? Regrets can’t change much, especially when there’s nothing you can do to fix them. Sometimes you just have to keep moving forward.”

He admitted to the fact that Oliver had a point. In the world they lived in now, there was no reason to look back. The most important things to worry with were whether you had enough to eat or if you were safe enough to sleep for the night. And while WikiLeaks was still, and always would be, his child, he knew deep down that the chances of ever seeing her grow to her full potential were next to nil. With a long breath out he nodded. “Granted, but didn’t you have a dream before all of this? Something you wanted to be able to save the world with?”

Oliver felt his stomach flip. No.  _He_ hadn’t had a dream. He had had a prerogative chosen for him, a mission to intervene and provide guidance to a race that had not the ability to act civilly on its own. Oh the Network had been so right… He hadn’t been left abandoned in a world that was not his and forced to fend for himself. He’d learned quickly that humans were a force to be reckoned with, especially when they were pissed to hell and back. That left him running, in hiding of who…  _what_ he really was. The old Oliver had been the one with a dream.  _He_ had  _nothing_. “Not as such, no.”

Julian raised one of his dark eyebrows. Something about the way his acquaintance replied seemed off, but it didn’t feel quite right to breach the subject. “…” He tried to say something,  _anything_ , but no words came.

After a short while, Oliver had had enough of thinking about a past and dreams that weren’t his own so he clapped his hands together and moved to face Julian. “I’m thinking of going scavenging in the towns nearby tomorrow, I could use a hand.” He noticed the look the man across from him pulled when he had decided to make the announcement out of the blue. “It can be your way of thanking me for the peaches.”

Assange nodded absentmindedly as he thought the offer over. This could be a good opportunity to see what Oliver was really like, see if the man was able to hold his own and be trusted. Julian made a mental note to bring along something light and concealable for their trip tomorrow. “Sure, sounds like a plan. Bright and early is when I assume you want to head out?”

“Sounds like a plan,” he chirped, nearly jumping out of his seat to show his guest to the door. While Blanks didn’t need to sleep, they could if only to rest a weary mind for a period of time and Oliver was feeling especially weary at the moment. A time in stasis sounded like a very agreeable idea. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Julian,” he said the moment the man stepped out into the open walkway, shortly closing the door behind him.

Julian was a bit shocked at having the door hit him on his way out, but he figured it had something to do with the last half of their conversation. Something had gotten under Oliver’s skin, and it confused him at how flustered it had made him feel to be the reason it happened.

“Until tomorrow then…” he mumbled to the door before stalking back to his own flat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two in one day, woo! It'll probably be another while before I post anything for Leaks. Never fear though! There is an end game somewhere in this fog of craziness, I swear! Tell me what you think, your lovely comments make my day!  
> Stay beautiful! <3


	5. Flicks and Eyerolls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A small chat before they go a-traveling~

_“I’ll see you tomorrow, Julian.”_

_“Until tomorrow then…”_

 

When Oliver said tomorrow, Julian wasn’t at all surprised when the man showed up at his doorstep at the crack of dawn. Really, he would question his neighbor’s sleeping habits if his weren’t just as horrible.

Oliver looked better than when they had parted ways yesterday, Julian noted. His conscience cleared and it was like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. Something about the way Oliver had acted was off from his usual spritely demeanor, and it had left worry and confusion running through Julian’s mind for the rest of the day and well into that night. But just seeing the chipper smile Oliver had had when they first met put Julian at ease.

He also noted that his neighbor was in casual attire. Worn jeans, good walking shoes and an insulated jacket over a t-shirt… Julian could most definitely get used to this look. The pin-striped suit was nice, but there was something about it that didn’t look as right as the outfit Oliver had on now.

“Good morning,” Oliver said, smiling brightly as he adjusted the strap of the book bag hanging off of his left shoulder.

Julian responded in kind as he ushered Oliver into his flat. He sauntered over to a decently sized duffel and dug around for a moment before pulling out a map of the local area. “Where are you thinking of scavenging?” he asked as he flattened the map out on the floor.

“Nowhere too far off. I don’t know the area as well as I’d like and I’d hate to get lost.”

“You don’t have to worry about getting lost, I know my way around pretty well.”

“Oh, really?”

The surprise in Oliver’s voice sounded so genuine that Julian was taken aback for a moment. “Yeah, I was born here.” He rolled his eyes as the look on Oliver’s face turned into disbelief. “Don’t let the accent fool you, mate,” he chuckled.

“I didn’t say anything,” Oliver replied with a sly smile.

“Didn’t have to.” He grinned back, flicking Oliver’s forehead lightly. “Well, if you don’t know the area, I can teach you. I’d feel better staying on the outskirts of the town, just because the cities have a higher probability of other people.”

His companion’s voice was laced with confusion. “Isn’t that a good thing though? They could help, couldn’t they?”

“Considering the times we’re in, does being around other people sound like the safest option?” Julian knew how people could be. That had been his living before the lights went out, to uncover the horrible things people were capable of. So sue him if he was a bit touchy when it came to strangers.

“You’re around me though,” Chamberlain pointed out.  _I may not be a person, but you don’t need to know that right now…_ “That’s nearly the same thing.” An awkward moment of silence filled the space between them before Oliver coughed and added, “Besides! If you grew up here, doesn’t that mean there’s a higher probability that the people here will know you?”

Well that was certainly possible. Then again, he had been a boy when he was last in Cardiff, so the odds were still low. “How about this,” he compromised, “we’ll stick with the outskirts for now, then the next run we’ll travel inland?”

The eye roll Oliver gave him was uncalled for. When he said as such, Oliver just gave him another one.

“Come on, Pongo!” he shouted, already making his way out of the flat. “We’re burning daylight!”

Eye rolls were apparently contagious because Julian served one up the moment Oliver was out of sight. “We’ll see how this goes…” he mumbled as he made to catch up with his companion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Random chapter! Hope everyone's doing well, sorry updates are so random, I've just been very busy and this certain muse only comes in random spurts... ALL THE RANDOM!!
> 
> Stay beautiful, lovelies!

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! This is a first for me, writing about someone who's a really real person! I feel a bit weird, but whatever! For all intents and purposes, Julian is a fictional character based on a real guy! :)
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> -bows-
> 
> Also! The quote from Time's Magazine is real. I got from the official WikiLeaks website.


End file.
